Brothers In All But Blood
by WriteWhatWant
Summary: The story of how Sully and Cloud Dancing became friends and brothers, and the years before the series began.
1. Chapter 1

**My first time trying to write a story for the Dr. Quinn fandom. I think it's needless to say that I own nothing.**

 **This story will also be about historical events, and I'll try to remain as faithful to them as I can. The Cheyenne will also play a large role in this story (duh) and again, I'll try to do them justice. Their language will not be included, maybe except for a few words, 'cause, let be honest, I have no way of doing that right without the help of someone who can speak it.**

 **Rated pretty high for future violence. Racist slurs and so on is to be expected considering the times, ye be warned.**

 **Thank you and enjoy.**

* * *

Having stared at his boots for days, it wasn't until he looked up and saw the dark shape of a mountain in the distance. With the sky on fire from the setting sun, it looked even darker and taller than he remembered. Pike's Peak. The sight made him stop up dead.

He hadn't wanted to come this way, he hadn't planned…

He looked down at his feet, wondering why they had brought him back here. He turned his head in the direction he knew the town would be, but the once familiar pull towards the place was gone.

Abigail was gone.

The thought of her ripped open something inside of him. It was like an open wound that had only just stopped bleeding, and the sight of the area made the pain return.

He couldn't go back, he realized that. His feet might have brought him here but his mind and heart refused to let him go further. He looked around. Mountains were in the distance. Trees climbed the hills and made woods at the bottom. There were probably rivers there and animals. He didn't know how to hunt, not without a rifle and he had thrown his aside after… after…

His feet turned towards the woods, away from Pike's Peak and away from the town. He walked until the last fire on the sky had turned to blackness, and instead, stars and a full moon gave him light. He walked until his already hurting feet hurt some more.

He walked until his shirt, wet with sweat from walking in the sun, clamped around him like a frozen vise. Along with the trousers and the boots, it was the only thing he still had from the army. His coat, hat, gloves, anything that reminded him of what he had done, he had thrown into a river at the bottom at a cliff.

He's wanted badly to throw the rest the same way, but walking around naked hadn't an option. Now he didn't care. The shirt was damp and cold, and he ripped it off and let it fall to the ground as he entered the woods. It was even darker in there. The trees stood close together and the leaves hid the stars from him.

It was like he was blind. He walked and tripped, and fell flat on his face, not able to see where he was going. He didn't much care. He got up and continued, not noticing how the air grew colder and colder around him. Even without the wet shirt he quickly began to freeze, realizing he might have made a mistake. Didn't matter now. He kept walking.

Walking and walking, until the ground suddenly disappeared from beneath his feet. He fell. He fell for a long time, rolled around and hit probably every rock and branch on his way down. And when he finally stopped rolling and falling, he was lying on his back and looking at the night sky.

And then he heard the last thing he expected. A voice.

Feeling like he was one big bruise, he slowly lifted his head up. The darkness swirled around him and he thought he tasted blood. And he thought he saw a fire. And someone by the fire. A voice called out to him but he didn't recognize the words.

His head hurt.

With a groan, he let his head fall back. That hurt too but he didn't care.

He didn't care about anything.

* * *

Cloud Dancing had promised his wife he would be back early morning. It was with sadness that he accepted that it wouldn't be so.

After placing another stone from the fire into the Buffalo pouch filled with water, he added the willow bark and left it to boil. He stood up and went over to the unconscious man, who had nearly fallen into his fire in the middle of the night. He hadn't woken.

Lying still as if sleeping, the young man looked anything but someone resting. He was pale and sweating, the fever still holding him in its grasp. Cloud Dancing had done his best with the man. The many cuts covering his naked chest, which no doubt had also been the cause of his fever – it had been a very cold night – he had cleaned and placed chewed herbs on. The bruises he couldn't do much for, except for the one on the man's temple, which was slightly swollen and blue in color. All he had was a cloth chilled in the river. He had asked the Spirits for help, but if the man didn't wake soon, he might not wake at all.

Cloud Dancing looked over the man's cuts but found no inflammation. Satisfied, he returned to the pouch where the water was steaming and added another stone.

A groan made him look towards the man. Red-rimmed eyes blinked open slowly and shaking hand reached up to touch the wet cloth covering the bruise. Cloud Dancing remained where he was, hand reaching for his knife.

He had helped the man but he had also recognized the clothes, or what was left of them, as an army uniform. He had only very few good encounters with soldiers and had decided not to take any chances. The man grabbed the cloth and looked at it confused before glancing around, his eyes quickly finding Cloud Dancing. They were very blue eyes.

The man didn't seem like he knew what he was seeing, no doubt under the effects of the fever. Slowly he raised himself up, eyes never leaving Cloud Dancing. After a few heartbeats, Cloud Dancing took a breath and let go of his knife.

"I will not hurt you," he said and held his empty hands out in front of him. The white man's language was still awkward in his mouth, but he remembered the words easily enough. The man stared at him. It didn't seem like he heard him. Those blue eyes with so much red around them were locked with his own, and what Cloud Dancing saw made a chill run down his back.

The man had not expected to wake up, and he was disappointed that he had.

The realization settled heavily in Cloud Dancing, who lowered his hands. He had seen that look in many eyes the last few years, and it never ended well.

"You're an Indian," said the man. It took a moment for Cloud Dancing to realize he had spoken, unpleasant memories swirling in his head. His attention returned to the man.

"I am."

"You speak English."

"I do."

He expected more, but the man only stared at him. Between them, the water had reached the right heat and small bobbles appeared on the surface. Moving slowly and watchfully, he filled a bowl with willow bark tea and put it aside to cool. He replaced the stones in the pouch with fresh ones from the fire, and all the while kept glancing the man, who didn't move. Sweat was still glistening on his skin and his chest moved rapidly as he breathed. Still, he sat up and stared at Cloud Dancing.

Trusting the Spirits, Cloud Dancing began to prepare a breakfast. One could never say what a man caught by fever would do, so he stayed out of reach from the white man, but he put his faith in the Spirits to protect him in this.

From his pack, he found the dried meat and many herbs and plants he had gathered. Those for the medicine he placed aside, while some of the edible ones were divided into two other bowls. Taking one of them, along with the now cooler tea, he slowly stood up and walked over to the man, who didn't move as he approached.

Kneeling beside him, Cloud Dancing held out the tea first. "This will help fever down."

It was unnerving having those eyes focused so intensely on him. So many emotions lived in them and they all seemed to reach out to him. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

He nodded at the tea. "It will help."

"Why are you helping me?" it was as much as an accusation as a question.

"You are hurt," Cloud Dancing said. The man swallowed. He seemed to grow paler and paler by the second.

"Why are you helping me," he gritted out between clenched teeth. Cloud Dancing placed the tea and the food down beside the man.

"Spirits bring you to me," he said and stood up. He nodded at the food. "Drink and eat. Will help." When he got no answer, he returned to the fire and his own breakfast. The sun had been up for hours, but his time had been occupied. Snow Bird would worry for him. He only hoped the Spirits would send her a sign that he was in good health.

As he ate, he tried not to look at the man. Some things required a lack of attention. He felt that the man had to choose for himself if he wanted help, and Cloud Dancing staring at him would accomplish nothing. So, he made a show out of not looking at the man directly. Instead, he carefully sneaked a look when he bowed down to pick up his knife, or then he added more kindle to the fire.

The man kept watching him, uncertainty clear on his face. Whether it was how he could be alive, or why Cloud Dancing was helping him, was not to say. He apparently refused to lie down but seemed to see reason in eating and drinking. With clear suspicion, he picked up the bowl with tea and sniffed at it. He glanced carefully at Cloud Dancing before taking a sip. He made a face but took another sip, drinking it all very slowly.

When he was done, he was sweating even more and finally had to give his shaking body some rest. He lay back down and breathed very fast and loudly. Satisfied, Cloud Dancing stopped his pretend and walked over and took the bowl, refilling it with more tea which he placed beside him.

The man watched him carefully as a hawk. His body was weak but awareness in the eyes could not be mistaken. Cloud Dancing was glad he had looked after the many cuts before the man woke up. He doubted he allow Cloud Dancing to touch him now.

"Eat and drink," he said. "Need to heal." The man turned his head away from Cloud Dancing.

"Don't bother," he mumbled. Cloud Dancing frowned. The man was stubborn.

Standing up, Cloud Dancing drew his knife. Until the man grew stronger, he needed to shield him better from sun, wind, and rain. He made his way to the hill the man had tumbled down from in the middle of the night and began to climb it. He hoped Snow Bird would forgive him for postponing his journey home a little longer.

* * *

He dreamed of Abigail.

She was lying in a bed, looking at him with a bright smile on her beautiful face. She held a hand out to him, and as he was about to take it in his, red appeared on her white dress. It spread like a wildfire across her body until there was no more white, only red. Blood began to flow down from the bed as the smile on her face turned into a mask of pain. Silently she screamed, her eyes wide and bloodshot. She sat up on the bed, clutching her stomach. Blood welled up between her fingers and she held them up before her eyes.

Her shaking, bloody hand was all he could look at. She turned her head towards him, tears and blood streaming from her eyes and heard her voice. _You killed me._

"No, please…" he begged. Slowly she shifted on the bed, and her bare, bloody feet touched the bloody floor. So much blood. She stood up and walked towards him. _You killed her_.

"No…"

 _You killed us_.

"No!"

He sat up, waving his arms. She disappeared, along with the blood and her voice, and instead, he stared into the face of a man who looked at him with concern. A man he recognized but didn't know. A warm hand grabbed his arms, holding them still.

"Be calm. Dream," the Indian said. He struggled against the hands but the other man was so much stronger than him. Shaking he let him help him lie down again, where gasped for breath. As he looked up, he realized he didn't see the sky, but instead a roof made of branches and leaves. He looked around and saw the shelter around him, pretty sure it hadn't been there before.

He looked at the Indian. "Did you build this." A nod was his only answer. "How long was I sleeping?"

The Indian frowned slightly. "Hours," he finally said. "It will be dark."

Had he really slept all day? Taking another look around, he noticed how a pack and sacks of animal hides were hanging from the roof of the shelter. Beneath him – and the blanket he was lying on – the ground was covered in leaves and dried grass. Outside, the fire was still alive, and he could smell the brew the Indian had given him earlier. He looked at the man. "You did all this alone?"

A nod.

His head felt heavy. He let it fall back. The Indian held out the brew towards him, gesturing with his hand towards his head. Understanding, he nodded. A warm hand sneaked behind his head and lifted it slightly as the brew was brought to his lips. He drank what he could and then lay back down. Seemingly satisfied, the Indian placed the wooden bowl away. Feeling sleep creeping in, he reached out and grabbed the Indian's arm. The man reacted fast, reaching for his knife, though never drawing it.

"What is your name?"

The Indian seemed to consider if he wanted to answer at all, before slowly speaking. "Cloud Dancing."

"Sully," he said. Cloud Dancing nodded.

Carefully he lay down and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, here's the second chapter. The story is coming along slow but steady, mostly thanks to real life keeping me busy as a bee.**

 **But behold! I have a beta!**  
 **The amazing life and story saving Liza45 have offered me her assistance, and I have gratefully accepted. Thanks to her, this story is no longer suffering from fatal mistakes and grammatical errors that will make most people twitch their eye in annoyance.**  
 **Thank you, Liza, for your help and assistance.**

 **So, without further ado, here is chapter 2. Enjoy!**

* * *

By nightfall, the fever had increased, much to Cloud Dancing's concern.

Sully, as the man's name was, was caught in its claws, struggling against its hold. And losing, Cloud Dancing feared.

He sat at the young man's side, wiping his brow and holding him down when his feverish mind got too much control over his weakened body. Like a dying animal, the man gained strength as the fever ran through his body. His arms fought the shadows only his mind saw and his legs tried to carry him away from them.

Cloud Dancing wished he wasn't alone with the man. He barely dared to leave him to fetch water, and he also had the fire to look after. But he managed somehow. As the darkness grew around him, Sully slowly fell silent on his bed, and Cloud Dancing knew the time had come.

Either Sully would live or the shadows would take him.

Sitting on his knees beside him, Cloud Dancing began to sing. Slow, deep words he knew by heart. He hoped the sound would reach the Spirits and incite them to guide the man back to the light.

He sang and rocked back and forth slowly, the trance taking him away, far away for a time he barely noticed passing, only to be brought back abruptly, ending his song.

He opened his eyes and looked down at Sully, who lay completely still. He carefully touched Sully's forehead and breathed a sigh of relief. The fever had broken. He closed his eyes and gave thanks to the Spirits. Sully was going to live. Cloud Dancing's work didn't end there, though.

It seemed that hours had passed. The moon was high above him and the darkness was thick. He gave the fire new life and made tea, which would soon be needed. He fetched more water and brought it into the shelter to bathe Sully. He was careful around the cuts and bruises but satisfied that they were healing well. He carefully grounded more herbs up and applied them. A few days and the cuts would be nothing but scars, ready for the sun to tan and hide.

Clean and still deeply asleep, Sully looked peaceful. And young. Cloud Dancing covered him with his blanket and sat close by the fire himself.

He shuddered as a cold breeze came down from the mountains. He expected it would be an early winter this year and the thought made his heart long for Snow Bird. He would soon be with her, though he feared her reaction to his extended absence. She would probably yell at him, he thought with a smile.

He remembered all too clearly his brother's words when he had so long ago confided in him about his love for Snow Bird.

"Most women are like a creek, but you have chosen a river, brother. Never fight the current, but flow with it. Only then will it wash you safely ashore."

Back then, Cloud Dancing's heart had been too full of love to truly understand, but his brother had been given his name for a reason. Cutting Word has seen who Snow Bird truly was; a woman with a fierce heart, unsuited for men unwilling to accept the strength in her. It did not take long before Cloud Dancing saw it too.

How she could be calm and cool like still water on a summer day, or roaring and powerful like a river taking flight out over the tip of a cliff. No matter what, it was a sight to behold, and one he longed for now.

Still, it had to wait. Glancing back over his shoulder, he watched Sully as he slept.

Did he have a woman somewhere? In town perhaps? Did he have children?

It was strange how he had come to Cloud Dancing. Barely dressed and with no horse, or weapons… or anything actually. Except for his pants and boots, which had been filthy and sweaty. Cloud Dancing had recognized the clothes as those of a soldier. He wondered if Sully was returning from the war he had heard stories about, or perhaps a fight with Cloud Dancing's own people.

It was an uncomfortable thought.

If the young man had the blood of Cheyenne on his hands, then Cloud Dancing wasn't not sure what to feel. Helping someone who had killed his people was… was easily something that would make him feel… guilty. To make him a part of the terrible things that fell on his people. Still, it was not in his nature to not help someone wounded. And from what little the Spirits had let him know about the younger man, Cloud Dancing didn't believe him to be a heartless killer.

There was a darkness around him. The same darkness he suspected had haunted him during his fever. It was like a shadow that clung to Sully, and Cloud Dancing found it very troubling.

Even though his eyes were on Sully, Cloud Dancing was lost in thought and barely noticed the other man stir from his sleep. Eyes still clouded from sickness opened slowly and settled on Cloud Dancing with surprising ease.

He got up and took the bowl of water, crawling into the shelter and placing it beside Sully before moving away. Sully had more color but he was still as pale as moonlight. A small improvement. Slowly, Sully managed to lift himself up on an elbow and take the water. He brought it to his lips, hand shaking slightly, and drank it all. Breathing heavily, he placed the bowl back down and nodded to Cloud Dancing.

"Thank you."

Cloud Dancing nodded back. He found some dried meat and handed it to Sully. "Eat slow. Chew good." Meat wasn't ideal but it would have to do. Cloud Dancing had run out of plants and Sully needed the strength. He just had to chew it properly.

Sully seemed to understand and ate the meat in very small pieces, all the while watching Cloud Dancing. "Why did you help me?" he asked in between bites.

"Spirits bring you," said Cloud Dancing.

"Yeah, you said that. But why… why help me?"

 _He doesn't understand_ , Cloud Dancing realized. He moved closer. Sully didn't shy away but instead made room for them both. Cloud Dancing tried to explain.

"You hurt so I help. Or you die."

Sully met his eyes. They were still very red to look at. And still very blue. "Was it really that bad?" Cloud Dancing nodded. "You still didn't have to."

"No," said Cloud Dancing. "But I did." He hoped Sully would understand. It wasn't about having to do something or even wanting to. It was about doing because it was right, no matter who Sully was or what he had done.

A shadow passed over Sully's face. "You should have let me die," he whispered and then lay down without another word. He rolled over, turning his back to Cloud Dancing.

Letting the man be with his darkness, for now, Cloud Dancing returned to the fire, keeping watch throughout the night.

* * *

Sully did not feel well when he woke up, but he did not feel as if he were dying either. Sunlight was streaming into the shelter through the opening, but also through the small spaces between the leaves and branches that made up the roof. It almost seemed like looking at the stars during the day.

For a moment, he just lay there and looked at the light. It was not so long ago that he had been certain he would never see it again. Hours, probably. The disappointment settled in him, heavy as a stone on his heart. The guilt that followed that thought threatened to make him sick.

What was wrong with him?

Taking a deep breath, he rose from his sickbed, sitting up in the shelter to look around. He winced and looked down at himself, seeing something green smeared all over his chest. Scraping slightly at it with a nail revealed a long rift across his chest, the source of the stinging he had felt. He smoldered some of the green stuff between his fingers and lifted it to his nose, giving it a sniff. It smelt sweet and earthy.

Frowning, he looked at his chest and arms, seeing it all over him. Then he remembered the tumble he took down the hill. Must have cut himself bloody on his way down. Had the Indian done this too?

Cloud Dancing, he remembered. Looking around, Sully could not see him. He was alone in the shelter. The area outside was deserted as well, but the fire was still alive, and something was cooking in the pouch above it. It smelled good.

Ignoring the shakiness of his hand, Sully threw the blanket aside and slowly tried to make his way out of the shelter. Or rather, he would have if the pain had not shot up his leg as soon as he tried to put weight on his right foot. He hissed, drawing the foot closer, his hands clutching the leather boot.

He did not dare take the boot off to look at it. It would hurt like hell and what if it was broken? He had seen broken legs where the bone stuck out through the skin. He tried to move it and flinched at the pain.

He set his jaw. It did not hurt that bad. Broken bones hurt. Really hurt.

Telling himself the pain was bearable, he clenched his teeth and held his foot as high and still as he could, slowly crawling his way out of the shelter, thankful no one was around to see his humiliation. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to reach the fire without hurting himself even more, and nearly collapsed beside it, shaking from exhaustion.

The sun streamed down from a cloudless sky above him, but the air was still cool. Sully wondered what day it was? How long had he been walking since he had...?

He wondered where Cloud Dancing was. There was no sign of the Indian, except the camp he had built up around Sully. Alone, he remembered. He could not help but be impressed. Cloud Dancing had done it all alone and apparently nursed Sully back to health.

And he could not do a thing. Not when he was shaking like a newborn foal, and with a hurt foot on top of it. Instead, he just settled by the fire, pulling the blanket towards him and wrapping it around himself.

He did not know where he was. It was a clearing, so much he could see. A grassy bank by a creek that ran downhill and disappeared into a forest that seemed to surround him. It was very peaceful.

There was almost no life at all, except for a few birds that flew from tree to tree. And if he had not moved from his hunched position by the edge of the forest, Sully might never have seen Cloud Dancing at all. The Indian appeared from between the trees as if he before that moment had been one of them.

Walking almost silently across the clearing, the Indian headed straight for Sully, who for the first time got a good look at the man. He was dressed in clothes made from animal skin. There were images of birds flying across his chest in different colors, and feathers and beads hung from his long black hair. He was older than Sully, though it was hard to tell by how many years.

He stopped near the fire and looked at Sully with a small smile. He had a mouth that seemed to easily smile and his eyes... there was something about them. They were the darkest eyes Sully had ever seen and when they looked at him… They saw things. Sully was not sure he liked that, so he quickly looked at the fire instead.

Cloud Dancing did not seem to take notice of this, but placed a bag he had been carrying on the ground beside the fire. He checked the pouch hanging over the fire and stirred whatever was inside with a stick before sitting down opposite of Sully. He sat cross-legged and looked at Sully, his eyes taking in every detail of his appearance.

"You better," he said.

"I feel better," said Sully. Cloud Dancing smiled and leaned a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"I glad."

Sully's smile felt like a broken mask on his face. He could not say the same. "Thank you for… saving my life," he said, vaguely remembering the night before. "I'm grateful."

"No, you not," said the Indian, his smile gone. He said it so calmly, so certain. Sully felt his whole body grow tense as those dark eyes settled on him, unblinking.

"I am."

"No," was Cloud Dancing's only answer to that. As he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing a bit, Sully felt a shiver run through him. He felt… transparent. Like glass.

Was he really that bad at hiding how he felt? How he hurt?

Cloud Dancing looked at him with those dark eyes, clearly seeing Sully – faults and all – and when he realized that, Sully felt himself giving in to it. His mask cracked.

"No, I'm not," he said in a low voice. Cloud Dancing's face somewhat softened and finally looked away from Sully, turning his attention back to the fire. As soon as he did, Sully felt as if all strength flowed out of him. The tension disappeared and he nearly slumped forward. What a relief it was. To just give in.

Ever since he pulled the trigger he had wanted to die himself.

After Abigail died, he had hoped to lose himself in the war, just not like this. His escape had turned into a nightmare even worse than the one he already lived in. The idea that he could still do something good, still help in some way, as little as it might be, had been the driving force behind him pulling that trigger.

One man's death would be the salvation of hundreds of others. He had been blind, and stupid. Too eager to question. He had killed an innocent man and ever since then, he had wished to die himself.

For a moment, a very short-lived moment, he had thought he would succeed.

Then Cloud Dancing had saved him.

His reason remained a question to Sully. He kept saying the Spirits, as if that was more than enough an explanation, but Sully did not buy it. It was like saying God wanted him to live. Nonsense.

Whether God was true or not, Sully had turned from him. Abigail was dead, Hannah was dead… and Sully had killed a man; a father and a husband. An innocent man. What God would let such things happen?

What Spirits would let him live despite everything he had done?

It almost made him want to pity the Indian. Poor man had done so much for Sully, believing it to be the will of some higher power beyond them. He would regret it when he realized what kind of person Sully truly was.

Maybe he would even kill him. Sully was white after all. Their people were enemies and Sully would not blame him if he did.

He might even thank him.

The Indian filled two bowls with food and handed one to Sully. His face was calm, kind even and he no longer looked at Sully with those intense, dark eyes. Instead, it was as if the last few minutes had never happened. They could be old friends, sitting like this by a fire.

They ate in silence. Sully had no idea what he ate but he liked the taste, weak as it was. When his bowl was empty, he told Cloud Dancing that his foot hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's another chapter - introducing a few OCs, that people hopefully won't mind.**

 **Again, thank you to Liza45 for your help (I know but I won't stop) You are amazing and I couldn't be more grateful. All remaining mistakes in the chapter are my own.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Not long after midday, clouds gathered and rain started to fall.

Cloud Dancing's earlier work had been done well, the shelter held tight, and only occasionally a drop or two would fall through, down onto the blanket covering Sully. The man himself lay silent, staring at the roof without saying a word. His foot, bruised and bandaged, was resting on top of Cloud Dancing's deer hide pack, his bare toes nearly sticking out of the shelter.

It was not as bad as it looked, he would walk soon, though be sore and weak for a few weeks, which was probably going to be a problem.

With evening falling soon, Cloud Dancing should have been home long ago. Snow Bird was worried, he could feel it. His children too. He feared they might worry enough to search for him. However, times were too dangerous to be wandering around the land. He did not wish for any member of his tribe, least of all his family, to be caught by soldiers outside of the Sand Creek Reservation.

That he himself had dared to wander outside the Reservation, had been dangerous but necessary. There were many plants that did not grow at Sand Creek, and with sickness and battle spreading over the land, Cloud Dancing needed those plants. Even if it was dangerous to go and collect them.

What a sad thought it was, to fear to wander the land.

Cloud Dancing had to force himself away from thinking those thoughts now. It was not the time.

The rain fell in thick drops outside the shelter. They hit every stone and leaf, and the sound was like war drums in the distance. It made it harder for his mind to go elsewhere. He forced himself to instead think of his problem.

Sully.

For whatever reason Sully had crossed his path, Cloud Dancing was now sure that he was meant to help the younger man, and healing his body was only part of it. There were other wounds, deeper and bleeding more freely.

He had dared to ask. When Sully had told him of his wounded foot, Cloud Dancing had hoped the other man trusted him enough to talk to him. He had been very wrong. He had asked what happened to Sully and regretted it immediately when the younger man had looked at him. They had scared him, those blue eyes.

He had glimpsed the darkness in them.

In less than a heartbeat, the Spirits had granted him a look into Sully's heart, and it had been like looking at a starless sky. Bleak, endless blackness filled the man and threatened to be his undoing.

The man was lost, and it was no wonder. With no moon, no stars to guide him, how could he ever find his way? No, it could not be done. The clouds were too thick, too dark to let any light through, leaving Sully stranded in a seemingly never-ending night.

Still, it was not the darkness that was frightening. What scared Cloud Dancing, was that Sully did not fight it. He had given up.

He was ready for it to consume him, longed for it almost, and Cloud Dancing wondered what had happened to him. He had seen it many times over the last few years. The fighting with the white men, the tribe's constant moving further and further away from the herds of bison, and what hunger and sickness did to his people, had left many with the same lifelessness as he saw in Sully. Some had fallen. Others had found light within the tribe and kin who shared their pain.

Sully should not be left alone, that much was clear. Cloud Dancing feared what could have happened, had he not tumbled down into his camp.

What should he do? Sully couldn't walk and there were a good two days of walking on foot to the village. A day or maybe less on horseback. But he had no horse.

The rain continued to fall as Cloud Dancing sat and thought.

The soft breathing behind him changed, telling him that Sully had fallen asleep. He looked over his shoulder, eyes confirming what his ears had told him. Looking at the younger man only brought his problem back to mind. Cloud Dancing sighed and closed his eyes, maybe the Spirits had answers. He let the soft drumming of the rain guide him as he relaxed his mind, opening it up to the world around him. He listened.

And an answer came.

He opened his eyes and stared out at the rain. Had he heard wrong?

He waited, straining his ears.

No, there it was again. The familiar call made him smile as he got up from his sitting position. With Sully still asleep behind him, Cloud Dancing left the shelter and stepped out into the rain. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew into them. His own call carried easily over the soft rain, and he heard an answer almost immediately from the forest to his left.

He ran silently to the trees, dodging the branches. He called again, this time with a whistling sound as his eyes roamed in between the trees. A shadow moved and a man stepped out from behind two trunks. Cloud Dancing lifted an arm in greeting.

"Old Bark," he said as the scarred face turned to him. Despite the horrible way his face looked, Old Bark's bright soul, as always, showed through his smile. As soon as he saw Cloud Dancing, his face lit up. When he smiled like that, it was easy to forget that half his face had once been pushed into a fire.

"Cloud Dancing," he called and quickly made his way over to him. They grabbed each other's right arm in a firm grip. "You had us worried."

Nodding grimly, Cloud Dancing said, "I know. I… found something, or better, someone."

"Do you not always?" grinned Old Bark, "Which is why we thought it best to come look for you."

"We?" asked Cloud Dancing, suddenly afraid. Old Bark nodded but sensed his worry.

"Walks on Cloud stayed at the village," he said and Cloud Dancing breathed a sigh of relief. "Black Wolf and Cutting Word came instead." Cloud Dancing frowned when he heard this. Why so many? Old Bark would have been enough. He was the best tracker.

His question must have been visible on his face, for Old Bark nodded with a grim look and explained: "The Dog Soldiers attacked a settlement the day before last. Soldiers are out looking for them." So that was why so many were searching for him. He was grateful but could not help and get annoyed at this foolishness. He would have words with his brother.

"Where are the others?" he asked. Old Bark motioned with his hand in the direction he had come from. "Did you come on horses?" Old Bark nodded. "Good, bring them all down. I might need your help."

He clapped Old Bark gently on the shoulder before turning around and hurrying back to his small campsite. Sully was still sleeping soundly. Cloud Dancing waited in the shelter until the rustling of beings too large to be humans could be heard from the forest. One by one, horses pulled by familiar faces stepped out from between the trees. They spotted his campsite and made their way over to him.

Old Bark walked up front, leading the way. Of the three men, he was the only one smiling. Behind him walked Black Wolf, looking wet and tired, followed by Cutting Word. Cloud Dancing could not help but chuckle at the sight of his younger brother.

His face was as closed off as always, but as soon as he saw Cloud Dancing, he visibly relaxed. His shoulder eased and he took a deep breath. The relief did not last long, however, and annoyance was soon written all over his face. Cloud Dancing smiled to himself. Seemed like they would both be apologizing soon.

Cutting Word did not waste any time and silently handed the reins to Black Wolf. He then stalked towards Cloud Dancing on his long legs, stopping right in front of him and looking him in the eyes. Cloud Dancing wondered if it would ever stop feeling strange to be looking up at his younger brother.

"You should have taken the horse," Cutting Word said in a low voice, thick with the emotions his face did not show. Cloud Dancing nodded, remembering the conversation they had had before he left.

"I should."

Satisfied, Cutting Word took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. He suspiciously eyed the shelter. "What kept you?"

"Picked up another stray," said Old Bark who was glancing inside the shelter, smile gone. Cutting Word quickly looked inside as well and his expression became hard as stone. He looked at Cloud Dancing.

"He came to me," said Cloud Dancing. Black Wolf and Old Bark shared a look and began pulling the horses towards the forest edge, seeking shelter from the rain, as well as the fight brewing between the brothers. Cloud Dancing and Cutting Word remained where they were, staring at each other.

"Your wife is worried," said Cutting Word. "How relieved will she be when learning your absence is caused by a white soldier?"

"He came to me," said Cloud Dancing again. He tried desperately not get annoyed.

"As soldiers will come to our people, when he tells them of you, rewarding your kindness with death."

Had Cloud Dancing been a wolf, his fur would have bristled. For such was Cutting Word's ability. No one Cloud Dancing knew had the power of words like his brother. Even as a child, before his all too fitting name was given, he had been able to make impose his power by a mere conversation. With a few well-picked words, he could make even adults see his point of view, easily turning a hunt around or even make their chief change his mind about a fitting campsite. It was truly a shame that he did not speak the language of the white men.

With a few words, he could also turn a situation around to his advantage, such as he did now, yet Cloud Dancing did not care much about it.

"He came to me, sick and hurt. I could not leave him." Cloud Dancing made sure to keep his voice steady.

"You would not," said Cutting Word. His dark eyes narrowing slightly. Cloud Dancing nodded, acknowledging the truth. He would not leave Sully. Ever since the younger man had tumbled from the darkness into Cloud Dancing's care, he had never once considered leaving him.

"No, I would not."

Cutting Word sighed. "The white chiefs are hunting the Dog Soldiers," he said. "They are attacking farmers and towns, raising anger towards our people." He looked at the shelter. "If he is one of them–"

"Sully has no wish to harm us," Cloud Dancing said firmly.

"He is a soldier," said Cutting Word, his teeth clenched tightly in annoyance, though Cloud Dancing did not know if it was from being interrupted or from his brother knowing the name of a white man. Cloud Dancing stood his ground.

"The Spirits have told me he can be trusted. I will not leave him."

Their eyes locked.

* * *

When he heard the horses, Sully nearly panicked.

Had his foot not been hurt, he would probably have fled into the forest, but he could barely move his toes without feeling a searing pain. Instead, he froze where he was, his heart beating violently in his chest as he heard the horses come closer, trying to hear how many there were coming.

He could not run. Even if there was only one single man, he still had a horse. And even if there only was one, that soldier would be armed. A single shot would be enough to kill him, the soldier wouldn't even have to dismount. Sully would be ridden down and shot in the back as he tried to flee. Could he hide?

A single look around the shelter answered that quickly. While the rain falling outside hid most sounds he made, the sight of the shelter standing enough in the open to be plainly visible, along with the dead fire in front of it, would be enough to tell anyone that the shelter was occupied or had at least recently been. One single look inside would reveal him and he would be caught like an animal in a trap.

His only choice was to fight. He just didn't have a weapon.

The shelter was made from branches and young trees bound together. He did not have the strength to break them apart. All he was left with, were bags of animal hides and a single stick. The one Cloud Dancing had used to stir the pouch with, and it was far out of reach.

All his panic of being found by the soldiers disappeared, however, when he heard voices, talking in a language he did not understand. Sagging in relief, he understood they could not be soldiers.

A new panic surfaced shortly after when he realized what that meant. Indians.

He barely had time to figure out what that would mean for him before an unknown face peeked inside the shelter. An Indian looked at Sully, whose breath got caught in his throat at the sight. There was something wrong with his face. The man said something before drawing back. Then another man looked inside, his face completely normal, except for the clear rage Sully saw in his expression when he laid eyes on him. He drew back as well.

The voices started again. Sully did not understand the words, but the tone of the argument was more than clear.

Sully listened intensely for movement. Cloud Dancing had every chance of killing him but hadn't done so. Instead, he had helped and cured Sully. No matter how Sully felt about that, he had come to believe that the Indian did not wish to harm him in any way. Whoever the strangers were, he couldn't be sure they felt the same way.

They outnumbered him and were no doubt armed. Sully was wounded and weak, defenseless. He felt like a cornered animal, with its leg in a steel trap.

Maybe they would kill him quickly, putting an end to it all. A small sliver of hope came with that thought, and Sully felt sick with himself. He closed his eyes, fighting the way his heart began to pound as footsteps came closer.

They would kill him and it would be over.

"Sully?"

He slowly opened his eyes. Cloud Dancing was on his knees in the opening of the shelter, frowning slightly. The Indian looked wet to the bone, his long, black hair dripping down on the blanket covering Sully.

He looked at the Indian.

Cloud Dancing reached a hand out to him.

He wanted him to step outside. Of course. Not much room to kill inside the shelter.

A calmness settled over Sully. He reached out and took Cloud Dancing's hand, letting the Indian help him out from under the shelter. They were waiting outside.

The rain had almost stopped, but still, Cloud Dancing pulled the blanket out and wrapped it around Sully. Only having one good foot to stand on, Sully leaned against Cloud Dancing, who had no problem holding him as he slowly helped Sully stand up.

Keeping a firm grip on the Indian, Sully looked at the strangers.

Three men, all with dark skin and black hair. Like Cloud Dancing, they were dressed in animal hide, though with a clear different style. One had a shirt colored entirely red while another had dozens of black wolves running up and down his pants. One of them was bare-chested, despite the chill in the air. What they all shared was the fashion of feather and beads hanging from their hair or from leather cords around their necks. They were also all armed.

Despite the knives and tomahawks hanging from their belts, Sully's eyes instead fell to the one with the red shirt. Half his face was covered in burn scars. Sully couldn't tell how old these scars were, only that they had healed better than the scars he had seen on miners. They covered nearly everything from cheekbone to forehead, and even stretched into his hair as if the fire had tried to eat its way across his head. The other side of his face was handsome and well-defined. He wondered what had happened to him.

Apart from the one with the scars, it was the bare-chested man who drew Sully's attention. Not because of his lack of clothes, but because of his resemblance to Cloud Dancing. They were related, Sully could tell. They shared the same nose, mouth, and cheekbones – brothers probably, though the stranger was taller and broader around the chest and shoulders than Cloud Dancing.

They watched him with obvious suspicion. The one with the red colored shirt and scarred face, was smiling at Sully, seemingly trying to be friendly. The scars didn't hurt his smile, but it still did not fool Sully. Dangerous men smiled too.

Cloud Dancing spoke to the men in their own language. It made Sully uncomfortable that he did not understand what was being said. His eyes kept glancing at the knives hanging close to their hands, or the bows and arrows on their back. How would they kill him, he wondered?

Cloud Dancing said his name and motioned him with his hand, which he then placed on his own chest. Sully did not want to think what that meant. The one looking so much like Cloud Dancing was scowling. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he watched Sully with dark eyes that were very familiar by now.

The two others seemed more interested. The smiling one actually looked as if he was having fun. His smile grew as Cloud Dancing talked, and he asked a question or two.

Finally, Cloud Dancing turned to Sully. Sully felt himself jolt. This was it. His time had come.

No matter what he had expected to happen, it was not Cloud Dancing smiling calmly to him and then presenting Sully to the other men. As Sully had guessed, the scowler was his brother, Cutting Word. The others were called Old Bark and Black Wolf.

The men all nodded in greeting. Sully waited for a few seconds, but no one made any move to reach for their weapons. Actually, they all seemed relaxed as Cloud Dancing gave them Sully's name. Oldbark took it with a smile and said something to Sully that could be some kind of 'hello'.

It slowly dawned on Sully, that they weren't going to kill him. At least not right now.

Sully quickly pushed the growing disappointment aside. He felt his body sag a bit and Cloud Dancing grabbed him more securely around the middle. One of the other Indians, Old Bark, reached out and helped so Sully didn't fall.

Sully thought Old Bark was a strange, though oddly fitting name. The scars could pass for flesh-colored bark if one just looked at it from a distance. Despite having healed well, the skin was still dented and uneven. The color was not consistent either, it even was bright pink in some places. It probably took months before such a severe burn healed, and Sully bit off the question how it had happened before it even left his lips.

The two men helped Sully sit down inside the shelter, so the last remaining rain didn't hit him. Cutting Word then spoke a few words with Cloud Dancing, as Old Bark and Black Wolf began to kindle the fire anew. They moved easily and with practice, and it didn't take long before it came to life again.

The men then made quick work of bringing animal hides from the horses, and made some sort of small, primitive tent out of them, directly across from the shelter. They also brought water, dried meat and flat bread that smelled freshly baked. Black Wolf handed Sully one with a small smile.

Sully thankfully took it. He looked at Black Wolf, and wondered if the man had painted his clothes after he got the name, or if he had been called so because of his particular choice of garb?

As Cloud Dancing finished explaining how Sully nearly fell into his fire – Sully couldn't understand the words, of course, but Cloud Dancing had mimed how he had tumbled down the hill, so the point of the story was easy to get – to his brother, who said something before sitting beside the fire, he turned to Sully.

"After we eat, we go home," he said. Sully frowned. Were they just going to go? Sully still expected them to kill him, but if that was their plan, then why tell him anything?

The other Indians began to eat, small snips of conversation in between bites of food.

Sully jerked as Cloud Dancing knelt beside him. The Indian looked him in the eyes. "We ride."

Sully frowned, not quite understanding. "Right," he said slowly. Cloud Dancing held his gaze, his eyebrows lifting in a very meaningful way, and then Sully understood. He looked with large eyes at the horses, standing still by the edge of the forest, and then back at Cloud Dancing. "What?"

The Indian nodded in confirmation.

Sully nearly panicked again.

It was a lot to ask of his exhausted mind to understand exactly what it all meant, and Sully blamed it on his fatigue that it was not the idea of going with these men to an Indian camp that scared him, but that they were going to ride there. On horses.

"No," he said and leaned away from Cloud Dancing. "No, it's fine. Just go. I don't need your help anymore." They should just leave him, or kill him and let it all be over. That would be a greater kindness than putting him on a horse. The Indian raised a knowing eyebrow in a way that reminded Sully of his friend Daniel. A twitch of longing pulled at him and he had to look away.

"You still hurt. You cannot walk," he stated plainly.

"I'll find a way," said Sully. He would crawl if he had to. To where, he had no idea, though.

The other Indians mumbled amongst themselves. Both Sully and Cloud Dancing ignored them.

"Come," said Cloud Dancing in a soft voice. "You need clothes. You need rest. My village."

His village. Sully's mind tried to follow what was being said. A village would be filled with Indians. Women and children. Elders and warriors. How many of them hated and feared Sully's people? How many had good reason to do so?

How would they react when he came to their home?

The meaning of the invitation settled in Sully.

Cloud Dancing wanted to bring him home to his village. A stranger whom he had found sick in the middle of the night and nursed back to health. He had helped him. Saved his life – it almost worried him that he wasn't sure how to feel about that – and now he continued to offer help. Sully just didn't understand why.

It was all too much. He let his head fall forward, trying to hide the emotion that no doubt flashed over his face. He wanted to refuse. Still…

Cloud Dancing was right. Sully needed clothes. His shirt was gone and his pants had seen better days. The only thing that still worked, seemed to be his boots, and they looked very military. He had to close his eyes as he remembered why he was dressed in a uniform and what he had done when–

He turned away from those thoughts, he needed to think clearly now.

Cloud Dancing wanted to bring him to his home, despite knowing Sully was a soldier. Maybe he spoke the truth. Maybe he really wanted to help Sully. It just seemed too good to be true.

Their people were enemies. Cloud Dancing had no reason to help Sully, just like he had no reason for nursing him through a fever or bandaging his foot.

Sully couldn't help but think something was behind it all. Those caring, dark eyes and the clear worry in them could not be true. Sully had seen too much cruelty and knew such a person was not real. There must be a reason behind it all. Maybe Cloud Dancing wanted to use him as a prisoner. To get a reward of some kind from the army – not that they would, but how could an Indian know that?

Sully tried to convince himself that there had to be a reason, but his heart wasn't in it. Cloud Dancing was not that kind of person, Sully could feel it. He couldn't speak for the other Indians, but he knew somehow that Cloud Dancing wanted nothing but to help him.

He didn't know how to feel about that. Instead, he focused on something he knew how he felt about. He looked at the horses. "I don't ride," he whispered.

"Ride with me," Cloud Dancing said. Sully shook his head.

"I don't… I'm… I can't ride…" Again far from the truth. Cloud Dancing stared at him. Black Wolf asked something and Cloud Dancing answered. The three men by the fire shared a look before turning back towards Sully with a mix of disbelief and amusement in their eyes.

Oh, how nice to know that even exhausted and confused, Sully could still feel humiliated.

Old Bark said something and then he and Cloud Dancing shared a conversation. Sully didn't bother to guess what was being said, not until Cloud Dancing got up and with the help of Old Bark, wandered to the forest, drawing out their tomahawks and knives. Sully looked after them as they disappeared.

Black Wolf said something that made Cutting Word chuckle. The two men finished their small meal and then began to take down the little tent.

Cloud Dancing and Old Bark soon returned with a few young trees, stripped of branches and leaves. They began to tie them together. Cutting Word gave them the animal hide, which they then tied to the trees, forming something that looked like a sled. Sully watched with fascination as they worked, slowly seeing it taking form.

Cutting Word and Black Wolf then began to gather Cloud Dancing's things. His packs were thrown over the horses' backs, and secured. The fire was banked and Cloud Dancing helped Sully to his feet, as Old Bark fetched the last horse and tied the sled-like contraption to it.

The Indian men looked quite pleased with themselves as they presented it to Sully, making it all too clear what it was for. Sully had no need to walk. They would carry him to their home.


End file.
